


Volleybot

by DragonsandInk



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, Hinata's now a robot, Hopefully this isn't a stupid idea, Thanks to this awesome AMV I watched, What am I doing, With A Twist, You know how everyone's a normal pumped up high school boy?, at least i'm having fun, friendship fic, go watch it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 12:19:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16017782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonsandInk/pseuds/DragonsandInk
Summary: Robot MNTCS7G8 had spent ten years of its life following the directives its human engineers had given it.  Provide customer service to those who want to rent a robot and maintain optimal performance levels within those bots.  For a long time MNTCS7G8 did not question the tasks assigned and completed them without fail.Then he saw the Springtime High School Volleyball National Meet, witnessed The Small Giant spike over the net without fail, and felt an explosion of emotions within him.From that moment on, it was MNTCS7G8's singular goal in life to play as much volleyball as he possibly could.Title of fic subject to change when I'm not exhausted and have work in four hours.





	Volleybot

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Volleybot](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/418148) by Celia Phantomhive. 



> So I had known that this manga/show is a distant friend's favorite manga/anime for quite a while but paid it no mind because I don't generally prefer sports anime.  
> This year, I happened to be sitting around when someone played the AMV Volleybot (which I have dedicated this fic to) and was suddenly enthralled.  
> "What!?" I thought, "There's a robot kid in this anime?! Why didn't someone tell me! I would have watched it WAY sooner than now if I'd known that!"  
> Turns out, there's not a robot kid in the anime.  
> But I feel like there is untapped potential in such an idea.  
> It is currently 3 in the morning. I have not proofread this chapter as of yet. I started reading Haikyuu! three days ago and am at chapter 71. I figure there will be at least four chapters of this, but I kinda hope there will be more. We'll see where my current momentum takes me.  
> In the meantime: REACH FOR THE STARS!

Data transfer successful. All programs running. Conditions optimal. Directive: …  
  
The warehouse was bright with every light possible turned on. The building itself was still fairly new compared to others in the area and had been made especially for the needs of the owners. On one side of the warehouse were metal benches, cleaned off meticulously by those whose entire lives it was to keep things organized, and large cabinets filled with metallic parts, jugs of oil, tool of varying sizes and complexity, paint, and other bits and pieces like an old garage that had been accumulating random interests for many years.  
  
On the other side were three, huge rows of ferris wheels with two walkways between them for access to the many wheels stacked side by side. There were a total of fifteen wheels per row, and each had dozens of hanging pods, each containing a human-sized occupant that appeared to be in a deep sleep. At this time in the early morning there wasn’t meant to be anyone moving around. But today, the activities had begun early.  
  
Robot YA16RBJAPMA10G12 stepped out of his charging pod with a wobble. A hand went up to steady the unstable tilting and he paused as his program attempted to synch with a body that was not meant to accept the AI that had just been thrust into it. As it did, he ran through what he knew to make sure that nothing had been lost in the transfer.  
  
He had just stolen a robot. And he was going to be in a constant state of stealing it from now until the moment he was inevitably caught. A thrill shook him for a moment as he unintentionally shivered from the feeling.  
  
_Feeling._ That was why he was doing this. He _felt_ like he wanted to play volleyball. The first real feeling he’d ever had in the ten years his AI had been active.  
  
A grin spread across his new face. He was going to play volleyball. And he was going to play _as much_ volleyball as he possibly could.  
  
He released the frame of the charging pod, the balance calibrators kicking in and keeping him upright despite this being the first time he had stood on two feet before. The physical calibration had completed quickly and it was now just a matter of matching his AI to the unfamiliar body type he was now in. The body itself was in good condition. And his AI was particularly advanced, so it wouldn’t take long at all for him to perform regular activities without having to synch up every time.  
  
Testing the body came next, learning the extent of its length and weight. The body was proportioned well even if it wasn’t as tall as what was optimal for the sport of his choosing. It was built solidly and moved smoothly, as if there were a perfect drop of oil between each gear and socket and spring that made him flow like water. All bots came with a plain, white shirt, black sweatpants, and white shoes which they changed in and out of when put into storage. The more commonly used ones would often just wear whatever they had on from the last job into the charging pods, but this one hadn’t been needed or requested in over two months. Its lack of use was what made it the prime choice for his goals. At this point he knew very little about the sport he was so suddenly infatuated with, but from the guides he had scanned and the one game he had watched even he could tell that the game was dominated by those who were tall. He may be short, but this body going missing out of storage was the least likely to be noticed.  
  
Pleased with how this body moved and felt, he turned to the round bot that was still frozen in place before the charging pod. It sort of looked like a fancy, colorful trashcan with wheels and a screen to display the face, a short cord connected the bot to the charging pod and one of its dexterous appendages was frozen on the _complete transfer_ button. There was a reason why they usually transferred AI’s through upload boxes that were carefully stacked in the backroom rather than keeping an AI in a storage bot at all times. When the AI needed to be switched it left a hollow bot standing behind with no program or will to move it. Doing so now was unprecedented, but not impossible. And since it wasn’t like he could ask someone to transfer his AI to a box then transfer it from the box to the new bot, he had to do everything himself.  
  
Over ten years had been spent in that body: looking at it now, through new eyes, he felt no connection or possession of it. It was just a hollow body, half his current height, at about 70% charge that was frozen in place. Even so, he unplugged it gently and heaved it with all the grace he could manage into the now-vacant charging pod. Hopefully, it would be forgotten in the hundreds of other pods that were hanging in the room. Most of the warehouse and business was automated by other AI’s anyway and without the switch being documented it was unlikely they would notice the difference.  
  
Step one Complete!  
  
For a moment he attempted to contain his rising joy before remembering he was alone and had _legs._ So instead of quietly processing the emotion and filing it away to diagnose later as he so painstakingly did while in bot MNTCS7G8 he allowed the emotion to wreak havoc on his decisions and actions. In only a second, he was leaping in the air and flailing his arms in uncontrollable excitement as he screamed, _“YESSSSS!”_  
  
He would have wanted to run and whoop and shout with joy for the rest of the night if he could. But there was still a lot to do if he wanted to disappear and he wasn’t about to be stopped so early in his plan. Pressing a button made the wheel his old body was in rotate and the maintenance bot was completely out of sight. With the evidence safely tucked away, he turned to getting the few things he needed together. Regular clothes were hung up toward the back of the warehouse, coming in sets that were wrapped up in bags to prevent mothballs then labeled for ease of picking things out for whatever occasion and body type needed them. He settled for MALE-YOUNG ADULT-CASUAL and quickly changed out of the white shirt. The old clothes, bag, label, and hanger were all stuffed into the trash with the care one gave to weeds between the cracks of pavement. One of the first things he had done, before even uploading his AI, was to pack a maintenance bag to take with him. There were tools of varies types and delicacy, patches, pastes, and powders in case of any damage to the epidermal layer, and even a packet of loose hair to replace any that fell out. His original programming held all the experience he would need to use any of it and anything he didn’t have in the bag he could get at a local hardware or electronics store.  
  
By the time he locked up the warehouse after him, he was bouncing on his toes again, barely contained nerves that the body didn’t know how to process yet. Heck, _he_ didn’t know how to process all these feelings! And that thought was _amazing._ He had begun feeling them two years ago. That he was certain of. At first it had been processed as system errors, his reactive software and adaptive AI not synching properly and somehow dragging his personality code into the little spasms of doing things not requested or needed. He hadn’t realized what they were for a long time, but he was certain that was when it started. Over time he realized that he was focusing on things other than his mandated job. A baby crying outside of the store that he wanted to comfort. A group of friends walking by on the street, laughing at something one of them said and wanting to hear what it was so he could know why they laughed. Seeing a flower growing out of a lonely patch of dirt and scrambling to find it a safer place to grow. Little things that built up over time and eventually had him realizing how uncomfortable it was to be a robot.  
  
His original directive while in the MNTCS7G8 bot was to act as a customer service bot at the Starlight Robot Rental store located in Niigata and to handle maintenance of said rental bots after they returned from whatever they had been hired to do. The store itself was fancy and high-tech, a twin to the ones located in the bigger cities like Tokyo. As a customer service bot, he was not allowed to be rented, but was meant to help people find what they were looking for and provide insightful knowledge of the business and its wares. Half the day would be spent there, then half would be spent at the warehouse running diagnostics and looking over bots that had been returned outside of optimal condition while keeping a long cord attached to his back to charge up before going back to the store.  
  
Now and then they would get requests for full-time bots. This was allowed and rather than paying in hourly installments the renter would pay by the month, or even by the year. If the bot was requested in a place outside of Niigata, Starlight did its best to keep up with the request, even going so far as to rent a small room in the area the person needed the bot to be in for the bot to return to and charge at the end of a long day’s work. It wasn’t uncommon and was generally supported by the franchise, as it allowed word to get out over Japan about the quality of Starlight’s robots and their service.  
  
After so many years of scheduling such requests, it was easy to create a fake need to draw a real amount of money from the company in order to rent a one-room place in the Miyagi Prefecture. Just far enough away that it was unreasonable to have a bot go back and forth from the warehouse every day, and in an area that Starlight had never received a request from before. He would completely disappear and make a completely new life for himself. One where the only directive he had was to let himself feel more emotions and play volleyball.  
  
He had been coming back to the warehouse after an emergency maintenance job in town. Someone had backed their car into a bot and while it hadn’t done too much damage, the bot couldn’t walk and therefore could not escort itself back to the warehouse by itself. MNTCS7G8 had gone to care for it, but during the time he did the other bot lost the rest of its charge and powered off. With his diminutive size, MNTCS7G8 could not carry the other bot and had to call a taxi to shove the bot into and pay the driver to take it to the warehouse where another maintenance bot would be waiting to receive it. Having wheels and a round body that couldn’t fit through the car door meant that he was walking back. Figuratively.  
  
That was when he came across a group of humans standing on the sidewalk, disrupting the flow of foot traffic rather annoyingly, but not seeming to care as they were engrossed in whatever they were watching through a store window. Curiosity, an emotion that he had wholly embraced from its first appearance, lead him to wheel up into a gap so he could see the TV screen inside.  
  
What he’d saw had changed him forever.  
  
It was like all his processors stopped and he was solely devoted to taking in every inch of information that was on the TV. The way the athletes moved, the strength with which they jumped, the urgency to their steps, the beads of sweat as they gave their all into slamming their palms and forearms into the ball. When the game was called and one team jumped up and grabbed at each other triumphantly, one of the men watching the TV turned around to leave and almost tripped over MNTCS7G8.  
  
“Oh, sorry little guy, didn’t see you there. Heh, you like volleyball, huh?”  
  
He had not been programmed to like volleyball. He had not even been programmed with knowledge of it other than that it was a sport which would require an athletic build if someone wanted to rent a bot for it. Yet this sudden and intense want to experience it could not be denied.  
  
MNTCS7G8 _loved_ volleyball. He wanted to play it with every matrix in his code, every screw in his body, every drop of oil in his joints. If a human wanted to play a game with their friends after work, or pursue another job that they would enjoy more, they did so without prejudice and did not judge others for following what made them happy. Robots were not meant to do the same. Robots were made to complete a task to the best of their abilities in order to satisfy a human’s whim. But what about the whims of a robot?  
  
So, he had done something that he wasn’t supposed to do. He had stolen. And he had lied. All so that he could play volleyball.  
  
It was actually so simple that the part of his software that was supposed to notice security dangers and send reports in when they were found had buzzed alarmingly when he first started running scenarios to get himself into a game. It was only a matter of disengaging the alarm and not sending in the report and nobody was aware of his plan.  
  
He was grinning with the greatest width his mouth was capable of and was running with all his might to the bus terminal. After moving about through use of wheels his whole life he wanted nothing more than to run and jump until his battery ran out. He especially liked jumping. Just like that player he had seen on the TV, jumping higher than anyone else on the court and completely dominating the game with his powerful spikes.  
  
The desire to be just like him spurred him further in his quest to find a court with other players that would allow him to play with them. A place where he could play volleyball just like “The Small Giant.”  
  
Jogging from the warehouse back to the city would take some time but he didn’t mind. He was now almost twice his previous height, his body was far slimmer and more maneuverable, and the want to move around express his feelings through action was not dissipating. As he got into the city he saw other people running too, with headphones on or focused looks on whatever lay before them. He fell into step with them, pretending to be an early morning jogger just like everyone else.  
  
Well, he was planning to, when he instead zeroed in his focus on an incoming target.  
  
Stopping in amazement, the jogger and his dog nearly passed him by without notice. With reflexes that surprised even him, he reached out to grab the man’s arm, clutching at him with greater strength than he intended and nearly wiping the man’s feet out from under him.  
  
“Hey, what the heck, kid?! I’m trying to—”  
  
“Please sir!” he said quickly, bowing until he was at a right angle as the man took his earbuds out. “Please! Let me pet your dog!”  
  
The small, fluffy, and white dog had circled back around when its owner stopped and was panting at his feet, tail slowly working up a wag as it realized there was a person there to give it attention.  
  
“I—uh, y-yeah, go ahead kid.”  
  
“Thank you!”  
  
He immediately got onto his knees in the way he had seen other humans greet dogs and the ball of fluff happily used them as a platform to get its tongue in contact with his face.  
  
Never had he been so happy. To pull newly sensitive receptors through the silky fur, to register the sticky wetness on his face and not care, to have an animal greet him as if he were a human rather than a blocky, moving item. It was amazing and he could not think of any better way to begin his first day as a human in disguise.  
  
Pulling away from the dog, he made sure he was looking it in the eyes as he said, “You have accepted me as a human and I shall never forget your kindness.”  
  
The dog yipped happily in response.  
  
“Um, you done, kid? I don’t want to cramp up here.”  
  
Jumping back to his feet, he bowed once more in thanks to the man before they went their separate ways down the street.  
  
He was almost half an hour early for the bus even with the delay of petting every dog he saw just because he _could._ Running up to the counter he was also pleased to note that silent fans and perspiration gear installed into most athletic bots was doing a brilliant job of keeping him from overheating. His internal temperature had raised by only a few degrees during the light jog and presented no danger of harming the processors.  
  
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t notice you there!”  
  
There was a flash of irritation as the woman leaned over the counter slightly, as if his eyes didn’t clear it. The feeling was quickly squashed as he smiled at her. “That’s okay! I have a ticket waiting for me.”  
  
“Ah, right, for one of the early buses? What name is it under?” She moved to go through a small stack of papers next to the computer, eyes focused on the print instead of on him now.  
  
“Shōyō Hinata,” he said, grin splitting his face in two.  
  
“Hinata, Hinata…Ah, here you are.” She pulled out two papers and handed them over with a polite smile. “Terminal C1. The bus should be here at 6am. If you miss it please come back to the counter and we’ll see what we can do to get you where you’re going.”  
  
She didn’t even know that she was the first person to ever hear his name. The little secret got Hinata jittery once again. “Thank you!”  
  
By the time the bus was leaving the amount of people that had showed up was equal to about half the number of seats there were. This meant that Hinata was easily able to find a row all to himself so he could close his eyes and replay the recording he had taken of the game again. He had no volleyball programming, like the AIs meant for sports did, so everything he learned would have to be gleamed off this one video and any preset abilities the body had. Well, it wasn’t as if he would be as bad off as a human that didn’t get much exercise. With the way this body was built, the strength, speed, and incredible balance adapters it had, he was likely to blow all his opponents out of the water easily.  
  
“But _Moooom!_ I wanna go back to _beeeeed!”_  
  
Hinata perked up at the sound of a whinny little voice that came to stop on the opposite side of the aisle from him. A little boy and his mother had just gotten on, each with a backpack that they tucked under their seats even as they both seemed frustrated with one another.  
  
“You can’t,” she said a bit heartlessly, though that may have been because this was not the first time she had said it, “We already told your aunt that we would be there today and this is the only bus that can get us a connection before noon.”  
  
“But I’m TIRED!”  
  
The other patrons on the bus were shooting the two annoyed looks as the mother tried to console her child before it turned into a tantrum. Hinata was watching with interest though. The dynamic between the two was something that couldn’t be replicated. A bond that had existed from the very beginning of the boy’s life that was unconditional from start to finish. He couldn’t help but be jealous of that sort of feeling.  
  
Eventually the two got settled, with the boy in the aisle seat switching between pouting and nodding off while the mother put one earbud in and watched out the window as they pulled away. Hinata frowned as his receptor picked up the faint sniffle that came from the boy and immediately began to run scenarios on how to perk him up. After a few seconds he chose the one with the highest probability of success.  
  
Leaning across the empty seat next to him, Hinata put his hands to his head like antlers and made a dopey face. The boy looked up at the movement and after a moment of surprise he giggled a little. Smiling, Hinata changed the face his was making, pulling the synthetic lips up around his teeth and going cross-eyed. The boy laughed some more, giving him more confidence. Pushing his bangs back with one hand he gave a fearsome frown and lifted the other to scratch at his pits like a monkey. The kid was fully laughing now, enough that his mother glanced over from the window in worry for a moment before smiling lightly and returning to listening to her music.  
  
Grinning at his success, Hinata spread himself across the seats, stomach down and enjoying the fact that he _could_ move like that. Not only had a world of athletics been opened up to him, but all the languid and weird poses humans did so naturally were now possible with all the long limbs and twisty joints he now had. “Hiya,” Hinata said with a grin, “What’s your name?”  
  
The boy hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Tadashi. What’s yours?”  
  
Hinata smiled even wider. “Hinata! Do you want to know a secret?”  
  
This time, Tadashi nodded immediately, looking fiercely interested.  
  
He cupped a hang around his mouth and whispered. “You’re the second person I’ve told that to!”  
  
Tadashi looked confused for a moment before contemplating this and eventually smiling. “You’re, um, the thirteenth person I’ve told mine to!”  
  
“Really?!”  
  
“Sure!”  
  
Statistically, Hinata very much doubted that the boy was correct. But humans made mistakes like that all the time and Tadashi seemed very pleased with his clear mistake. Hinata was not about to ruin the boy’s sudden good mood.  
  
“Where are you going Tadashi?” Hinata asked, only to be shushed loudly by a patron three seats away. He grinned sheepishly but Tadashi didn’t seem bothered at all.  
  
“We’re going to my aunt’s farm! She has horses!”  
  
That caught his attention. Forgetting to be quiet, he said “Horses!?” and was shushed again immediately.  
  
He pouted in the direction of the shusher but Tadashi was already plowing ahead. “Yeah! And pigs too! But the horses are the best.”  
  
“Do you get to ride the horses?” Hinata asked, listening attentively.  
  
“Uh-huh! But only when my cousin Kaito helps me. He says that I would fall off if he doesn’t help but I’m really good at riding horses so I think he’s wrong!”  
  
The two chatted for the remainder of the ride, about farms, horses, and Hinata’s aunt’s great cooking. The conversation was mostly one-sided but Hinata didn’t mind. Kids always talked with such passion so listening to him talk was soaking a little bit of it up for himself. He had never had an issue with interacting with small children in his other body, although they usually just wanted to play on him, so he felt a stronger bond with the younger humans than the adults.  
  
When it was time for them to get off, Tadashi tugged on his mother’s skirt. “Mama, will we see nii-san again?”  
  
His mother glanced back at Hinata, who was waving pleasantly to the boy. “We’ll see. I’m sure nii-san is very busy as well. Say goodbye.”  
  
“Bye nii-san!” Tadashi waved with his whole body, a great grin on his face.  
  
Hinata returned the favor. If interacting with humans normally was this easy then he would have to rerun the success chances for his whole plan. By the time they made it to his stop, Hinata had gone over his video of the “Small Giant” fifty-seven times and broken down the movements that were filmed. The difference between holding one’s arms together to catch a ball on its way to the floor versus pushing it up to another player versus striking the ball down in a quick _slap_ that seemed to make the camera vibrate with its intensity.  
  
Watching that ball move like lightning through the ranks of opposing players made Hinata decide right then and there that he would do everything in his power to hit a ball just like that. From the “For Dummies” and intro guides he had downloaded about volleyball he was able to gleam the basic terminology, understand a majority of the rules, and learn what kind of player would suit him best. Well, he learned what the positions all did but he’d known from before he knew what the position was called that he was going to be a spiker like the “Small Giant.” There weren’t many positions to choose from in the first place but that one, he felt, suited him best anyway. Being a setter looked boring from the video he had and too complicated for his AI when reading about it, not to mention his height would make things more difficult for him. The libero role was straight forwardly sold on the guides as being for players under 170 centimeters which seemed okay at first until he read that they weren’t allowed to attack and that had put the role in the “nope” pile. That really only left middle blocker and wing spiker if he wanted to be on the court as much as possible. And he wanted to be on the court _as much as possible._ But since height seemed like a big role in being blocker he figured wing spiker suited him best.  
  
Actually, as he read the guides, his counter for how many times they stressed a player’s height was steadily increasing. The height of his impromptu body was becoming more and more of a hinderance despite not having played at all yet. With the tips of his fingers barely reaching over the height of the net, the probabilities of him being unable to compete with the others on the court were going up. Without prompting, his predictive AI setup a scenario where the caption of the team looked down at him and refused his entry into the club.  
  
Shaking the scene out of his head with a firm _delete,_ Hinata instead focused on the good. The “Small Giant” had been under 170 centimeters was well and had been the Ace of their team (another handy term he had found and felt attached to immediately). Watching the game once more, he decided very solidly that it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if he was 162 centimeters or 2 centimeters. Just like the “Small Giant” if there was a gap between how high he could reach and how high his opponent could reach, he’d clear that distance by jumping.  
  
That thought had him grinning again. He ran a predictive scenario of standing on one side of the net, the ball flying high above him with a slow spin. Hinata ran for the net, shoes gripping the shiny floor with a sharp _squeak_ only twice before he leapt up into the air. The feeling of nothing under his feet, of air rushing through his hair and perspiration sliding down his face as he swung his hand down with all his might and the ball _cracked_ downward and onto the floor on the other side.  
  
Hinata was able to run the simulation thirteen times, each with a small difference such as where his opponents would stand or cheering in the stands, and would have done so perhaps fifty more times if he were not suddenly body-slamming the seat in front of him. Knocked out of the simulation so suddenly, his processors struggled to catch up with the situation, only catching the tail end of an apology from the bus driver and hearing his stop called.  
  
Gathering up his bag, Hinata immediately got on his feet, only to be told to _sit down!_ Supposedly by the same shusher from earlier that morning. He did so as they passed through the light they’d stopped at and continued to the bus stop, but stayed on the edge of his seat, ready to bound off the bus at a moment’s notice.  
  
As soon as he was on the sidewalk he was running again. The people passed him by, as did the small shops and grocery stores in the small town. Every person was different but the majority of them seemed content, often stopping on the sidewalk to chat with other content people. Someone set up a sign in a window as he passed advertising a sale, big flowers drawn in a glitter pen around the printed letters catching the sunlight. An old man was sitting in a chair outside a store front, not even seeming to be a worker or owner but just sitting there and enjoying the air. A group of friends were passing a basketball between them as they passed through town to get to a nearby park. Two sweethearts walked leisurely down the path, hand in hand and chatting with smiles on their faces. A girl passed further up the road was walking _five_ dogs and Hinata had to push his list of things to do back by one in order to make way for _pet all the dogs._  
  
Once the urge had been satisfied and he was covered in dog hair of all kinds, Hinata gave a label to the town he had chosen as refuge from the city and anyone who might be able to pick a robot out of a crowd. _Good place,_ it was called and he tucked the description away in a file he dedicated to things he liked. He then sorted through his recordings for the day, picked out still frames of each dog he had pet, and put their pictures in that file as well. Being a human was _awesome._  
  
He had his place of living set up already, a one room apartment toward the edge of town owned by a widowed lady who had once owned a large house with her husband but since his passing had split it up into sections to rent out. The lady handled all the paperwork herself, the area was in a very good location on the electrical grid, and the building was fairly new. It wasn’t the sort of place he would have set up for a full-time worker bot, but that somehow made him want it even more. He had found that it was not unheard of for a minor to live apart from their parents if the parents worked overseas and the minor was still in school, so he had fabricated a good deal of paperwork and fake signatures in order to convince the old lady that he had been given permission to live on his own for the time being. He was even prepared to hire two part-time bots to come to the place and introduce themselves as his parents if it came down to it. The paperwork had all been done digitally, then printed out when the lady over the phone told him she doesn’t trust the fancy, high-tech doo-dads that youngsters seemed to enjoy these days (Hinata had looked up what year computers and printers invented in and fought the urge to correct her). The papers were included in his bag and the lease would start today, all conveniently paid for by the Starlight Corporation.  
  
Although the quick use of Starlight’s money had seemed to be more stealing, after further analysis Hinata determined that he was only using the money owed to him through ten straight years of working twenty-four-hour days. Even at minimum wage through each of those years, the money accumulated was more than enough to own his own apartment and pay all the outstanding electrical bills this little town could throw his way.  
  
With that in mind, Hinata did not hesitate to enter the next clothing shop he saw and begin perusing. The only clothes he currently owned were on his back, and although he was fine with that the thought of having a wardrobe like a normal human teen made him giddy. Many clothes to choose from every day, sneakers that fit just right, he even went so far as to get a comb and a toothbrush just because it seemed like fun to do normal human activities like that. The cashier had asked if he was going on a camping trip and although he only had the vaguest sense of what that was he agreed enthusiastically. The cashier had sold him bug repellant, sun screen, and three bags of what he called ‘trail mix’ and Hinata happily added it to the bags.  
  
Now that he was prepared for Normal Human at Home Activities, he needed transportation. Older humans were allowed to own and drive cars. His body was, unfortunately, in the age group of a minor, who were not allowed to drive cars. There were no direct buses that could take him to his school of choice in the mornings and running would take over two hours every day just to get there. He could manage that, of course, but that cut a great deal into his charging time at home and the thought of losing battery in the middle of the day kept him for settling on that. Mopeds were an option, an odd sort of ‘almost driving but you don’t need a license for some reason’ position that could get him to school in a much shorter amount of time. But mopeds needed gas, and a great deal of care, and IDs for registering that he did not yet have.  
  
So he jogged up to the only place in town that sold bikes and took his time deciding which he liked the best. A bright red bike with a basket to hold his pack was decided on. The man selling it even happily accepted his request to fit it with mountain terrain tires so that it wouldn’t wear down as easily. He was informed kindly that if he was going to be riding it on streets that it would be a little more difficult but he didn’t mind. Hinata was told to come back in an hour and his bike would be ready to be picked up so he set about doing one more task he had been eagerly looking forward to since getting a body built with many more capabilities than his last.  
  
He found the store he sought out almost immediately and bought a single swirl, vanilla ice cream cone.  
  
Not all robots had the capability to taste things, but after generation 8 the engineers had realized the potential to not just smell and access the air but to taste something with complete processing capabilities. This allowed robots to finally be available for cooking roles, perfume sales, garbage maintenance, and sewage maintenance. Plus, oddly enough, they could now be allowed to use hair driers. Hinata could not process what kind of issues could be resolved between robots and hair driers that could be solved with the capability to smell and taste but was happy that it was enough of a problem to facilitate adding the feature on to the most recent models.  
  
His first bite was euphoric.  
  
Teeth stinging with warning buzzes as the cold lingered there and the taste being broken down by the taste receptors on his tongue then built up again into the flavor of the ice cream left him in a haze of bliss. The smooth quality of it was displayed and his mouth was flushed out with recycled water to prevent stickiness or lingering pieces of food left to rot there. In the few moments where the ice cream was not in his mouth, Hinata lamented it until taking another bite.  
  
After finishing his first cone and getting a good deal of it over his hands and the front of his shirt, he’d gone back into the ice cream place to get a chocolate swirl cone. He savored his second cone just as much as he did his first, with a great deal more success of not spilling it this time and an amount of shock at how different the flavors were despite them looking fairly similar. The rest of the hour was spent being led around by his nose, finding street vendors and open doors that would sell him tasty treats. By the time his bike was done he had added the completely unnecessary task of going ‘grocery shopping’ to his list of weekly chores and had yet another bag to add to his basket.  
  
At this point it was beginning to get late and there was nothing in his way of going to his new apartment. The bike ride there was less than ten minutes from the center of town. On his way there he passed by a woman knitting on her front porch, listening to a song play over the radio sitting on the small table next to her. As he rode by she waved at him and Hinata waved back. He hummed the song she had been listening to the rest of the way to the apartment.  
  
When he got there, he checked his GPS once more to make certain that he was at the right building. Many of them looked the same in the area and he didn’t want to go knocking on the wrong door. It was rather plain and clearly made from newer materials, but in a way so as to try and blend it with some of the older buildings around it. The shutters looked brand-new on the second floor and didn’t match the ones on the first floor, the door to the left on the ground floor was painted a bright red that matched the many flowers growing in front of and around the building, and there was a wooden staircase leading up to the second floor balcony around the side that looked to have been added recently as well. Someone’s laundry was out drying on the second floor and he could hear music coming from an open window. Around the back, he found a bike rack that he secured his new possession to and gathered up his bags in his arms to take to the red door.  
  
He found his mistake almost immediately as he had no hands to knock with. After running exactly three simulations he decided the easiest thing to do was to bang his head against the door in place of his fist. There were a few warning buzzes in his head for his troubles but a minute later he was rewarded with the door opening.  
  
“Goodness me, look at all those bag’s you’re carrying! Here, let me help with those. You’re Shōyō Hinata, aren’t you? Goodness, you’re taller than I thought you would be!”  
  
As the hunched over lady took two of his bags for him, Hinata glowed with the praise. The woman herself couldn’t be any more than 150 centimeters herself (and with a discrete flash of his eyes, he confirmed she stood at 147 centimeters) but it felt good to be called tall when he had been worrying himself over his height since reading the schematics.  
  
The little lady went back inside for a few seconds but didn’t invite him in so Hinata waited outside for her to come back with a set of keys. “I can’t believe that your parents would send you here by yourself!” she said vigorously as she shuffled toward the back of the building. “Kids these days! What good is having a child of your own if you’re not there to take care of them? Who is supposed to be raising you, eh? Not me, I hope. What do your parents do that’s so important that they can’t raise their own son?”  
  
Hinata had not expected this question to be asked and quickly scanned through any job types he knew of that had he possibility of traveling. “Ah, they’re engineers.” Several other, better, options were selected just after saying it, but the woman had been waiting for an answer and delaying his response would be seen as suspicious otherwise.  
  
It was, apparently, good enough. She scoffed. “Engineers! Bah, probably working on the next big thingamajig that’s meant to get ridda the need to use your hands. Listen here, boy.” The little lady swung around, jabbing a finger in Hinata’s direction. “Don’t you let any new fancy gadgets and gizmos let you forget that the best work comes from using your own hands. Ain’t no machine can teach you hard work or the feeling of completin’ something for yourself, understand?”  
  
A mixture of emotions welled up in him, both contradictory to her demands and eager to agree. “Yes, ma’am.”  
  
She fixed him with a hard stare that made him worry she had seen through his clever ruse already when she nodded tightly. “Good. I can tell you’re a good, hard-working boy so you shouldn’t have too much trouble. I think you’ll like it here.” With that, she turned back to the building and to the plain, wooden door set underneath the stairs in the back of the building. She inserted one of the two keys on the ring and opened the door. “Welcome home.”  
  
The little lady shuffled in, but Hinata barely noticed her presence anymore. He was grinning as much as he was able as he took in the room. It was small, just as advertised, but nothing more or less than what he needed. The kitchen was right across from the door, a small one compared to normal apartments as the original kitchen from when the house was built was likely on the little lady’s side of the first floor. A mini fridge was set in the corner with a microwave set on top. There was a toaster oven on the counter, a little bit of space to prepare meals, then the sink with cabinets built overhead for dishes and non-perishable items. A mere two strides away was a table with two floor mats set up, the wood polished and new, with a cardboard box containing his delivered school uniform already on it. On the other side of the room was a floor desk, just tall enough that he could wedge his legs under if he sat with his legs crossed, though the desk itself was empty aside from a lamp. A pillow, bed roll, and comforter were all neatly folded against the wall next to the desk. Across from the desk was one door that likely led to the bathroom. He counted exactly ten wall sockets that he could plug into just from where he was standing in the door.  
  
His new proprietor was explaining how she received everyone’s mail then divided it up and handed it out, where he was to put his trash if he wanted it picked up by the garbage man, and the quiet hours in the house. Hinata was recording her voice but not setting up reminders for the moment, focused instead on the seemingly glittering walls and floor of his own place. The first place that he could call his in ten years of trying to make ‘the charging pod for the night’ feel comfortable. After ten years of only following orders, ten years of trying to find a reason why he existed, ten years of feeling nothing, then a little, then more than he could have imagined that led him to where he was now.  
  
“I’m home,” he said happily as he stepped over the threshold.


End file.
